


Malachite Joker

by YinNocturne



Series: The Joker Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Joker Game (Anime)
Genre: Gen, Post Series Fic, Spies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 05:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7155110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YinNocturne/pseuds/YinNocturne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaminaga happens across a young Harry Potter on his way to London in 1988. He sees an opportunity, one that turns out to be beneficial for them both. Part of the Joker Series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Malachite Joker

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a giant verse that spans almost a century, covers the backstory of just about all the D-Boys and a major crossover with Harry Potter. This part, Malachite, is the first of a set of sequential stories that will span Harry's years at Hogwarts.

The D-Agency has had agents in and out of Britain since it’s inception on the eve of the Second World War. 40 years later, their first graduating class is in the long process of settling down - as much as spies ever do. They have spread out across the world again, getting ready to dig in for the long haul. Creating safe houses, sleeper networks, preparing to become the local contacts for their kouhai. 

One such agent is passing through Surrey. To the average observer he’s just another person, an old man, probably travelling to see relatives. But this man is not average, and his observers aren’t either, so as he goes, he’s looking for a way to allay their suspicions. The SIS operative that has trailed him since he entered the country hasn’t seen anything to validate the orders he received, passed down from the highest echelons, the ones that still remember the Japanese operative they’d held for only day. An operative who had, even under the newest truth serum at the time, managed to fool Lt. Colonel Marks and escape without leaking anything actually useful. That loss still smarts, even now, when all that were involved have largely retired. 

Kaminaga, travelling under the name Kentarou Smith with a birth date fifteen years younger his real one, knows he’s being followed because of the ghost of a memory. Still, he wants to be able to settle down here, and that means giving the SIS absolutely no reason to suspect he had ever been anywhere near their country at the start of World War II. So when he sees a young child wandering lost further up the path, not obviously near an adult and not distressed at all, Kaminaga sees an opportunity. 

With dark brown hair flopping down over his eyes and curling around his ears, this child is close enough in appearance to Kaminaga to pass for a relative. His clothes are tatty and too large, yet this area is a wealthy one and there are no signs of beggars or homeless. His behaviour too hints that his family is abusive, or at the very least neglectful; a child of about six would usually have parents in clear sightlines. Given the evidence, it stands to reason that the kid will take his offer, if it gets him away from his current life. 

Kaminaga has had long practice at concealing his emotions, so the only the slightest flash in his eyes betrays the smirk that wants to spread across his lips. He pretends to ‘notice’ the kid with a small gasp perfectly calculated for the benefit of his watcher, and speeds up to reach the kid. His new cover is as the kid’s estranged grandfather, come to finally see his grandchild before he gets old to travel such a ways. 

“Oh! I haven’t seen you in so many years, since you were just a babe.” He says, letting wistfulness fill his voice as he approaches the boy, positioning himself so that his watcher can’t see the boys reaction. “Mind, I haven’t seen my sons in just as long.” He lifts a finger to his lips and winks at the kid.  _ ‘Now to see if he’s willing to play along.’  _ The hand that’s raised travels out to push the kid’s hair out of his eyes, coming to rest on his shoulder. 

“I know this must be strange for you.” Kaminaga says, looking the kid straight in the eye. “But I promise, I’m not a creep. Why don’t we go to that cafe over there?” he points out a nearby coffee shop. There are people coming and going, the usual for a Saturday morning. It’s a public venue, there should be enough chatter to conceal their conversation, and it won’t trip too many alarm bells. ‘Keep your movements out in the open, the best way to arouse suspicion is to act like you have something to hide.’ Yuuk-chuusa had said that often when he was training them.

The boy looks up at him, eyes wide, but nods briefly. “My aunt…” he says, a worried pout forming, “She’ll be mad if she finds out.”

“The sister of the woman my son married?” The kid just helped him fill out his cover, these kinds of little details would help later on, and Kaminaga let him see a small smile in response. It seemed he’d chosen right, no mention of parents, so they were likely dead, and the aunt and uncle weren’t all that pleased to have to look after their nephew. “She was quite the harpy, if I remember rightly.” 

Kaminaga straightens up and holds a hand out to the kid, “Shall we?” he says, watching the smile form on the kid’s face. 

They take the back corner table. Kaminaga can watch both exists without being too obvious, and the kid seems fascinated by the hustle and bustle of the kitchens. When the waitress comes around, he orders a cup of Earl Grey.  _ ‘The British can make tea, I’ll give them that, unlike the Americans.’  _ He had had to learn to drink coffee during his missions in America, their dismal excuse for tea wasn’t worth watering a plant with. 

“What would you like kid?” The kid looked at him with such a look of shock at the question.  _ ‘Well then.’  _ He turned to the waitress, “Got anything he might like?” He fell automatically into the charming countenance he had been trained to use on useful civilians. 

“The kids around here almost always go for a warm chocolate, it comes with marshmallows.” She says the last to the kid with a wink and the kid nods back at her hesitantly, although he looks over at Kaminaga as if to confirm he can actually have it. Kaminaga smiles at the kid warmly as the waitress repeats their order back and, at his nod, moves on to another table. 

“So,” Kaminaga leans forward onto his elbows and drops his voice to a low murmur. “You have never seen me before, and I think you’re smart enough to realise I am not actually related to you.”

“I knew.” The kid says quietly, staring fixedly at his hands.

“Then, I have a proposition for you.”

“Proposition?” The kid tested the word out slowly.

“A potential deal, agreement, arrangement, generally between two people. I will take you away from your current guardians - your Aunt and Uncle I assume - and you will come to live with me as my grandson.”

“What would I have to do?”

“Caution. I like that.” Kaminaga lifts his hands to hide his smirk,  _ ‘This kid is truly perfect.’ _ “You would have to be the dedicated grandson, go to school and earn good grades, learn faithfully all I have to teach you. I will provide lodgings for the both of us, food and clothes. I will also take care of the paperwork. A good deal, no?”

“Alright.” The kid says slowly, “But what do you get out this?”

Kaminaga stifles a laugh, this kid. “I get safety. No one thinks ill of the ‘kindly old grandpa’ looking after his only grandchild, the last of his family. That is what I get.”

“Safety. That means you’re running from someone.”

“That I am. But they don’t have anything, no proof.” Kaminaga doesn’t know it, but it’s that line that convinces Harry Potter to go with him. Harry is used to being blamed for everything, punished without any chance for defence. 

“Alright.” He repeats, more firmly. “I’ll go with you. As long as you can get the paper stuff to my Aunt. She’ll sign it.”

“Oh?”

“They’ll  be happy to be rid of me.” He smiles sweetly up at the waitress as she arrives carrying a tray with a teapot, two cups and small jug. “My name’s Harry, by the way, Harry Potter.” He holds a small hand out over the table, for Kaminaga to shake.

“Kentarou Smith.” Kaminaga returns, pleased at the firm grip. “I will tell you more later.” He says, letting go of the kid’s hand and turning to fix his cup of tea. 

“For now, enjoy your drink. You will have to stay at your Aunt’s house tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow, 10 o’clock I think.” He says at a conversational volume again, knowing he’s just thrown his follower for a loop. He smiles behind his cup. 

Today has been a good day. 

As the kid had said, the woman who greets them at the door to No. 4 Privet Drive, is perfectly happy to agree to sign any papers Kaminaga brings the next day. 

“Well, kid. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He ruffles the kid’s hair and turns to the aunt. “I will be by with the paperwork tomorrow. Have his things ready when I arrive.”

“You’ll take him?” She seems, slightly off, both unsure and eager but not regretful in the slightest. “Actually take him, not just dump him back on our doorstep after a few days.”

That had actually happened before apparently, it seemed by her body language it was a real concern for this family. Something worth looking into. Kaminaga could handle anything that came, but it was always good to know the scenario. The smallest hint could later be the most important clue. 

When Kaminaga arrives the next day, Harry Potter is sitting on the front step with a bag between his feet and a box by his side. He smiles and waves when he sees Kaminaga getting out of the taxi. 

“Good morning. I see they’ve kept their word.” Kaminaga says, nodding to the small collection of the kid’s things. 

“Yeah, Aunt Petunia let me keep everything out of my cupboard, didn’t even check what I’d put in the box.” Harry was delighted by that, he got to keep the bits and bobs he’d filched from the piles of Dudley’s discarded things. A few toy soldiers, a nice notebook with an inkstain on the cover, and a set of pencils; he’d hid them all right down at the foot of his cupboard where no-one ever bothered to look. 

“Oh, lucky for you then, kid,” Kaminaga outwardly looks unfazed but,  _ ‘A cupboard, and he’s made a personal claim on it, too. That definitely something to evaluate later.’ _

“Shall I take these in to your aunt?” Kaminaga lifts the slim brown briefcase at his side slightly. 

“Mm, I’ll be fine out here for a little longer, I’ve been sitting here since 6am this morning.”

“Well, then. You surely do have fortitude, it should not take more than ten minutes.” With that Kaminaga proceeded past the kid and up to the front door, rapping it sharply twice before twisting the knob and walking straight in. 

Petunia Dursley is in the kitchen, leaning against the bench with a cup of tea, her husband is eating a mid-morning snack at the table. Her son is presumably out and about already, as Kaminaga can find no hints of his presence. Vernon Dursley starts to bluster when he looks up to find Kaminaga standing in the kitchen doorway. 

“Vernon, you remember what I said last night, about the man who’s going to take the boy?” Petunia hurries to his side.

“Ah, yes, Pet. You’ve got the papers?” Vernon Dursley barely turns to look at Kaminaga, certainly makes no effort to stand and greet him. “I want that boy gone.”

“I see this will proceed without any difficulties.” He keeps his voice measured, it wouldn’t do to let his disgust for this family colour his tone. He was trained far too well for that. Kaminaga lifts the briefcase onto the table, clicking open the latches, and removing a small sheaf of papers.

“If you both sign here, Mrs Dursley again here and here, and finally Mr Dursley again here.” He places a pen on top of the spread pages.

“Done.” Vernon picks up the pen, without even stopping to wipe the grease from his fingers, and signs.  _ ‘He didn’t bother to read it, an idiot, and he’s leaving grease marks all over it, the pig.’ _

“Mine also, I trust we’ll never need to see you again.” Petunia says, after signing with a flourish.

“Indeed.” Kaminaga fishes a pair of fine leather gloves out of his pocket before he gathers up the papers and the pen. “Although in future, Dursleys, I would read the contracts you sign, before you bind yourselves to them.” And with that, he sweeps back out the door, motioning for Harry to follow him to the waiting taxi.

“We’d best go before they snap out of it.” He says to the kid.

“What did you do?” Harry asks, bag slung onto his back and the box held protectively to his chest.

“Oh, I only implied that I had written something devious into the contract, and that they were fools for not reading it first.” Kaminaga’s tone is light as he helps the driver settle their luggage in the boot.

“Did you?” There was a sly edge to Harry’s tone, even as Kaminaga could see the perfectly innocent look on his face as his slides into the backseat.

“No. The papers merely stated that they agreed to never look for you, ask for compensation for your years in their care, and that we were never obligated to provide contact details to then at any later point.”

“So that means, that…”

“They cannot come after you, nor can anyone try to find you by using them.” Kaminaga twists to look Harry in the eye. “It means you are safe from them, and anyone associated with them.”

“Good.”


End file.
